May 16, 2006


I dropped my laundry off this morning with Freyna the Laundry Lady and I think she hates me. What? My clothes are pretty clean when I take them in, as far as dirty clothes go, anyway. I tip her. I don't think I smell. Do I? What gives? She rolled her eyes when I walked in the door. I swear she did. Speaking of my neighborhood, I got a tip about a vegetarian place nearby that I must try out sooner than later. I've been holed up for a few days in the tiny office in my apartment, and just completed the latest round of edits on my novel and I feel a little bit spacey. I'm going to step away and re-organize my office. A little Shalom Bayit is just what I think I need.

Not true! Wait! I did actually walk around the block yesterday when I was getting edit-frustration. I walked by one guy and overheard:

"Sorry, your Fabulousness! I was in Italy. I haven't called anyone back. Tell me about the boyfriend...?"

I could have sworn he was Ted of Carlos and Ted fame (see a post previous or two). About ten feet behind him was a fratboy in a t-shirt that said "I'm That Guy". He made eye contact with me and belched as he passed. Whoa, stand back ladies! This one is all mine! How can I resist a wild fling with a twenty-year-old jackass like this when we're both so close to our respective sexual primes? Woohoo! Come to mama! (I just sicked myself out.)

Chairman Meow is fucking furious at my work ethic. Great, he's probably been conspiring with Freyna the Laundry Lady. I'm doomed. Hell, for all I know, the two of them probably asked, nay, begged, the frayboy to belch at me. Double doomed.

1 comment:

ProletarianVegetarian said...

Wow, your cat's name is Chairman Meow? That is tremendous. Does he have a Little Red Bowl?

Love your blog, visit it daily...